


this here is not singing

by sinfulchihuahua0602



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Pining Jaskier | Dandelion, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Song: Fair (The Amazing Devil), Song: The Horror and the Wild (The Amazing Devil), The Amazing Devil Lyrics, song: battle cries (the amazing devil) (because this isn't an actual tag apparently?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfulchihuahua0602/pseuds/sinfulchihuahua0602
Summary: jaskier walks down the mountain alone, and finds himself singing lyrics not quite from his time.or, the one where jaskier sings The Amazing Devil lyrics.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	this here is not singing

**Author's Note:**

> the first two verses are from Fair, the third is from Battle Cries, and the fourth is from The Horror and the Wild, all by The Amazing Devil.

Jaskier stumbles down the mountain alone, lute bouncing against his back and his mind spiralling as he thinks about a future without Geralt in it. 

He had been so sure, so  _ safe  _ in the knowledge that he’d be able to spend the rest of his days using his knife to threaten the coin out of the alderman, and negotiating rooms at the inn for a Witcher and his bard, and playing his lute anywhere and everywhere he wanted, and sleeping under starlight in a cold forest with only the warmth of said Witcher and a fire. And sure, it hurt sometimes that he couldn’t have more with Geralt - it hurt quite a lot, actually, like he was being brutally gutted and couldn’t breathe - but he would’ve been content like that with Geralt, for the rest of his life. It was a calm existence, less stressful than the intricacies of the politics and manners of court, and more free than he’d ever thought he could be. 

He should’ve known it wouldn’t last. 

Jaskier has his arms wrapped around himself, fingers digging almost painfully into his forearms, and he never thought that he’d be withdrawn like this but dammit, Geralt took everything from him and he deserves to fall apart. Gods knows he never does; always a performer, putting a show on for others. Jaskier’s fucking sick of it. 

Old habits are hard to break, though, and he finds himself subconsciously pushing the tears back, bringing to mind tunes and verses and anything other than what he’s feeling. He starts humming quietly, mind automatically focusing on one of the faster songs he knows as a line of defense against his emotions, and his humming turns to singing, voice soft and low against the quiet of the mountain. The song is fast, and usually he’d sing it as loudly as possible while walking alone in the wild, because it’s better to practice a performance for an audience of people in front of the wildlife than sing to yourself, but he can’t be arsed to care right now. So he sings, and finishes the song, and keeps going. He makes it through a good ten songs he knows, some fast, some wildly inappropriate, all designed to be the opposite of what he’s feeling right now. 

Jaskier’s voice drops at the end of the last note of the last song, and he stays quiet for a few seconds before he starts humming. It’s one of his love ballads, and he knows he shouldn’t start this, especially with himself, but the tune carries on its own.

It’s when that ballad ends that he finds a new note rising in his throat, softer and more vulnerable than he’s ever sang anything before. Jaskier frowns and nearly stops humming, but he’s never been one to turn down songs buried within him, and this one feels like it’s begging to be let out. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” he starts, voice high but quiet, and breaks off. The song - the lyrics that he doesn’t know because they don’t feel like his own - is much more  _ human _ than anything he’s sung - anything he’s allowed to sing. 

Yet, he feels a deep ache in his chest, thrumming right next to the spot Geralt unwittingly carved out of him, and he hums the tune again. 

The tune soon gives way to lyrics. Jaskier has no idea where they’re coming from, but he doesn’t really care - fuck, maybe they’re just his emotions coming out in stranger ways than he’s used to, he’s seen enough weird things in his life that this wouldn’t even make the top hundred, but at least he’s still capable of telling stories with his songs. 

Especially when he’s not going to have any new stories to tell. Not the stories that matter, anyway. 

“ _ Oh, it’s not fair,”  _ he sings softly, and finds himself carrying on without having any idea what comes next. His voice cracks, breaks, drops down to a whisper near the end, “ _ it’s not fair how much I love you.” _

He goes silent, realizes he’s stopped and is standing in the middle of foreign woods on a mountain with no one to protect him. 

Jaskier lets out a breath, tries not to panic, tries not to cry, and keeps walking. He doesn’t use his lute - these words are for something softer than his lute, and they feel like they’re from another time, and Jaskier is not one to plagiarize. These songs don’t belong in his world; they’ll never leave the safety of… wherever in Jaskier they’re coming from. 

He starts singing again, something he knows is of the same song, but a different verse. 

“ _ ‘Cos darling I was born…”  _ he trails off for a beat, and then starts carrying on without his consent for a second time, voice rising in the trees, yet still impossibly fragile, “... _ to press my head between your shoulder blades, at night when light is fading.” _

Something stabs at Jaskier’s heart at that line and his voice cuts off abruptly. He walks in silence for a few moments before something harder, more definite solidifies in his mind and he begins humming again, a different tune. Less fragile, more solid and final. 

“... _ a season finale…”  _ he finds himself singing suddenly. There’s more to that, he knows, and he spends the next few minutes humming the tune repeatedly until his mouth opens and it melts into singing. 

“ _ This isn’t a break-up,”  _ and he trails off for a third time, questioning the words appearing in his mind. He’s not sure he would ever call anyone  _ dear heart  _ \-  _ darling  _ is more likely, but still, the name echoes with something deep inside Jaskier and he sings the full verse before he can stop himself. 

“ _ This isn’t a breakup, dear heart, it’s a season finale,”  _ he sings, no longer as softly as before, but definitive and final as his voice rises in triumph on the last few words. He keeps walking, quiet again except for the verses playing on loop in his mind. 

And then a third tune comes in, louder and wilder than before. It starts off quiet, but Jaskier hears it explode in his head and he sings it suddenly. 

“ _ Remember me I ask,”  _ he starts, soft and almost a whisper, “ _ remember me I sing…” _

He pauses, somehow knows what’s coming next, and smiles as he lets his voice rise above the trees and into the air, loud and powerful. “ _ Give me back my heart you wingless thing-“ _

He stops abruptly. The next lyrics don’t come to him, though he has a feeling this song has far more than what he’s been given, and Jaskier is more than intrigued by now, but he can’t sing what he doesn’t know. So he doesn’t sing, but his smile fades and he thinks of how similar the lyrics are to what he’s feeling. He shoves down the thought, even as the lyrics from all three songs play on painful loop in his head. 

Jaskier stops walking suddenly, finding himself at one of their abandoned campsites with night quickly falling around him. He notices this, and then the strange songs leave him just as quickly as they came, leaving behind the few verses he sang and nothing more. 

Jaskier frowns, trying to push aside his heartbreak, and sets up camp. He doesn’t think about the warm weight that isn’t next to him, the solid muscle that isn’t going to protect him this night, and he falls asleep with the mysterious verses playing in his mind. 


End file.
